


Night As I Know It

by Rain (theravenyesthatone)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theravenyesthatone/pseuds/Rain
Summary: An original Vampire story from my Rain alias, this time from the Vampire's POV, versus the Hunter's.I would so love to post lots of my original stuff, but few people have shown any interest. I will pepper this archive with some of the shorter ones just for my own enjoyment.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 3





	Night As I Know It

**Night As I Know It**

**by Rain**  
  
**© 2010**

**X X X X**

It is a hot night. The sort of night that only New Orleans seems to be able to provide. It has a special feeling to it. A sultry, tactile sensation that one has to experience in order to properly know.

One also has to be suitably familiar with the night and not just the night in Louisiana, but the night anyplace at all. 

Night. My guide. My nemesis. My obsession. 

The moon is my sun; they say she is cold, but my experience tells me differently. It's only when the moon hides that the night sky is cold. It's only when the many stars twinkle down alone, that the darkness is empty.

The darkness is never really empty though. This is something that I know, more than most. The night is my playground, and it is also my lover. The night holds the secrets that I alone must find for myself.

The night...

The night is waiting for me, so without further ado I get ready to go into its darkness, its unpredictable embrace.

I have no other choice as after all, I am a child of the night and not of the day.

The moon is my sun. 

She is waiting for me and so is my destiny.

With that in mind it is time to get ready. Ready for what?

Ready for anything...

The hot bath that is the commencement of my preparations gives the illusion of warmth to my body. But still I can feel the chill in my bones and burn of my cold sun on my pale skin as it peeks down through the open window in my domain.

Would I be ready tonight? Is tonight the night?

Silk is my next step. Delicate lace borders shimmering fabric that is as soft as the powdered wing of a butterfly. It has been an eon since I have last seen such a creature. Unless it was cruelly pinned to the carefully labelled card of a collector.

Still, my trailing fingers remember a long lost summer day when the sun had been my companion and my hair had burned gold in its light. A captured moment in a field of flowers where I played as a child. Unaware, and unknowing of my destiny and of my future.

Of my present state.

And now? Now it is time for leather; always a fine accompaniment to lace. 

Some would argue that leather on a hot night in New Orleans is a madness, but such things are of no concern to me. Leather will serve its function well and thus, it is needed.

It helps that it is tight, seeming to encase my sensitive skin like it had been designed to. Upon reflection, it is in fact designed to encase my skin in such a fashion. 

So also with the boots that follow. The pale shine of steel glitters at the tips of the boots and at the brass buckles that embrace my calf. With a satisfied sigh, I slide a dagger into each boot, the silver pommels of the weapons join the glitter of steel, but I ignore both for the time being.

I am getting ready for my destiny, after all.

A black linen shirt slips through my fingers as I carefully select it to wear. It fits me perfectly just as the leather, silk and steel do. My hands work automatically, closing buttons made of horn and then my fingers adjust the drape of the cloth. 

Jewellery. A trivial seeming addition, but despite my state of being, trivial has not ceased to matter to me, and in deference to the child of my memories, I secure a silver chain around my neck, carefully adjusting the simple cross that hangs from it and then I reach for earrings that match. My outfit is completed by a sprinkling of rings for my long fingers.

I am ready. Or as ready as I would ever be in any case.

I do not need money, but despite that I snatch up a roll of bills. Just because I do not need money, does not mean that money would not be needed. It never hurt to be prepared.

It is time to go. I do not know if I will be returning to this place, so before I move into the night I carefully build up a blaze in the small fireplace in the room and throw the remainder of my meagre belongings onto it. No one will inherit my material goods, and if I survive the night, it would be simple enough to get more things if they were needed. I have money, after all...

**X X X X**

The press of people on the street is oppressive but it is also vibrant with life and right now I want to feel life. It would also disguise me for as long as possible which is perhaps a good thing as I do not want what could possibly be my last night on earth to be cut short by being found too easily.

My hunter knows where I am of course, but what my hunter might not know is that I was not one for being prey. She will have her hands full by the time she actually gets within striking distance of me. One did not grow to be as old as I am without having gathered the skills needed to survive even in unlikely situations where the odds seemed heavily stacked against my favour.

Rounding a corner I find myself in a less populated street and immediately my senses go on even higher alert. If that is possible. 

I only have an inkling of what my pursuer looks like, but I am sure I will know her when I see her. We have been destined to meet from the day that she had been born; perhaps even from the day that I had been born.

Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.

As mentioned before I am not necessarily in a hurry. I want to enjoy my night after all. I am hungry, thirsty and horny. Such mortal sensations in a situation like this. Perhaps I will be able to fulfil at least some of these cravings before the dawn.

Assuming I lived that long.

Before I even realise it on a conscious level, my feet stop moving as instincts borne from an eternity of being honed fall into play.

She is here. 

How has she found me so quickly?

I am not surprised. It has been rumoured that she was the best. The best of the best, actually.

Be that as it may, I have my own, very formidable reputation as well. I have bested the best, many times before.

I spot her almost at once, maybe a hundred yards away. About my height, well dressed, with dark hair. I consider the possible arsenal that she might be carrying. She is rumoured to be intelligent, so chances are she is actually carrying the correct items to kill me.

A moment passes and I resume walking. She is not going to do anything in such a public place with so many possible witnesses. Especially in a place like New Orleans where people might actually believe what they saw, versus ignore the truth even as it stood shouting at them right before their eyes.

My nemesis fells into step beside me and we walk together on opposite sides of the street. Not exactly my idea of a nice, romantic stroll but it would do. I am not especially fussy, and anyway, I have no choice in the matter. 

As we walk, I examine my hunter: Dark hair and a build that tells a story about the sort of physical conditioning needed in a hunter of a creature like me. 

She is merely mortal, after all. She would need the advantage of her well constructed physique and of whatever it could give her by way of stamina and resilience. Regardless, she will not be able to match my strength, or my speed. But if she is as good as they say she is, she might be able to match my cunning.

I have not grown old by underestimating my opponents.

After a few blocks of walking, I am bored. I wonder if my new friend would like some coffee. It is one of the few things that I can stomach which is quite nice really. Coffee and conversation had not grown old with time even though so much else has.

"Would you like some coffee?" I call out as I stop in front of a promising looking cafe.

My eventual opponent seems to be taken aback by my request. Whatever. I am going to have coffee and she could wait for me, or she could find me later. I do not care. If I an going to die tonight I am going to enjoy what little I may have left of my life. An anti-social pursuer is not going to stop me.

A smile at the pretty mortal who was manning the counter and I do not have to pay for my coffee and am amused to discover a phone number scribbled on the bottom of the cup to boot. Hope was the thing that had not escaped when Pandora's Box was opened. My life has shown me this over and over again.

Choosing a seat that affords me a view of the cafe and the street beyond it but with my back to a wall, I settle down to sip my coffee and consider the night. I still need to eat and perhaps I can find a good place to have a whiskey. Another blessing that remained with me. I can drink whiskey. It has no effect on me but I could enjoy it, like I enjoyed my coffee now.

My hunter eventually sits down in my proximity with a cup of coffee of her own. Apparently she is of the sensible sort: If you can't beat them, join them.

I am in no hurry to be killed, or to kill, so she would just have to wait for me to be ready...

**X X X X**

By the time we finish our coffee, it is coming to midnight and a breeze had started to ruffle my hair before it sneaks its way down into my shirt in an almost caress. It makes me wonder just what I could do about being horny. It's not like a creature such as I could easily jump into lust with just anyone at all.

Rising to my feet I make my way back to the street, uncaring if my nemesis is following me or not. She will not stop until she had me, so if by some chance we missed each other tonight, she would find me tomorrow night. It is our mutual destiny after all: She had been born to kill me and I had been born to live for an eternity.

Turning into a dark alley, I consider my options for dinner. I can feel my hunter follow me into the short, dark space, oppressive space. She also smells better than my environs, which stick of stale body functions and discarded life.

"What is your name, hunter?" I ask without turning around.

"Why would you want to know such a thing?" She asks in return as I slowly move to face her.

"I have good manners?" I offer as I watch my hunter reach into her clothing and pull out a knife. 

What a knife it is, a dagger actually. Its glint tells me that it's titanium. It is inlaid with a hard looking wood and it will easily kill me if it were plunged into my heart. Chances are that she carries other weapons just like it. 

We shall see.

"You want to do this here?" I inquire, still waiting for her name.

"I want you dead." She says with a nonchalant shrug and rolls her shoulders.

I examine the line of her clothing and extended my senses outwards. She carries a second, identical knife to what she was holding. But I can detect no other weapons on her. She obviously feels very confident in her abilities, or she knows that quality matters over quantity.

"That's a pity, hunter. I do not wish you dead, but I will kill you if I have to." I reply and wait for her to make her move.

"You still have not told me your name." I say softly as I easily dodge her first foray towards me. 

I reach for one of my knives, deciding that I could use it to parry if needed. She pauses for a heartbeat when she sees it, but it does not stop her pursuit.

When she lunges at me again, I leap out of the way easily.

"You'll need to do a lot better than that, hunter." I say, readying myself for what I was sure will be her main assault.

The words have no sooner left my throat when she stops her apparent fumbling and moves on me with the grace and finesse of a true killer.

So this was it? Was I going to die on her blade in this stinking alley?

It is only my supernatural speed that allows me to avoid being nicked by the sharp edge of her blade as she attacks. My counter attack does not land, but then I am trying to brain her with the pommel of my dagger, not gut her with its blade.

I hear the snick of another blade leaving its sheath and I pull up my own second blade to bear. This time our blades cross and I feel a kick to my body. Thankfully a mere kick does not have the power to injure me, but I now find myself pressed against the back of the alley, with both my hands engaged in keeping her blades out of me.

She has brown eyes. Not simply brown though. They are many colours, a riot of hues ranging from almost gold, to what could be mistaken for black. I am entranced. I feel like I could be in love for the first time in what feels like centuries, but which is probably actually closer to a millennia.

Kicking out with my foot I manage to disengage and she falls down, rolling into her movement and not letting go of her knives. Too late though, I am on her in an instant, pressing her into the ground and trapping her arms, with my own blade at her throat.

"Why do you hunt me?" I ask her, looking into eyes that seem to look right back into my soul, if I indeed have such a thing anymore.

She does not answer, and she shows no fear as my dagger presses against the pounding pulse of her throat. The urge to feed is overwhelming, but I have not grown old by giving into my impulses and by not being able to control my lusts.

I succeed in one of those things, and without any hesitation I lean down and kiss my hunter on her full, luscious lips. She does not react for a moment and her eyes look unblinkingly into mine.

When I pull away she finally speaks. "Your eyes are extraordinary. Not what I had expected." It is such an unlikely statement that I do not know what to make of it.

I lean in and kiss her again. This time she kisses me back, her mouth hungry and demanding and I feel lust flare up in my body as I press myself into her with an ardour that I have not felt for an eternity.

I do not need to breathe, but I am gasping when I pull away. "What did you expect?" I ask, referring to her comment about my eyes.

"I was not expecting you." She answers and I can feel in that moment that she is not going to kill me tonight.

I pull my own knife away from her throat.

"Will I ever know your name?" I ask as I help her to her feet and slide my daggers away into my boots.

"Why do you want to know my name?" She asks me, adeptly concealing her own knives.

"Just want to make sure I scream the right thing later when you make me come." I say gamely.

She laughs and it is music to my ears.

Perhaps this is love? My eventual killer, or my eventual victim and I are laughing in a filthy alleyway while we discus sex. Or more importantly, sex with each other.

What are the odds of this?

"Will they fire you if they find out that you are fraternising with the enemy?" I ask, suddenly feeling absurdly concerned about her welfare.

"Are you my enemy?" She asks, easily avoiding yet another question from me.

"Probably not, but statistically, pretty much." I counter as we walk out of the alley and I start to look around for a suitable place for us to sojourn tp whatever it is that is going to happen next.

I am suddenly very glad that I decided to wear silk tonight...

**X X X X**

The advantage of money is that I can easily buy my way into almost anything, and what I can not buy myself into, I can charm myself into. My kind is known for devilish charm after al. Few could resist, though many did try.

Anyway, what this means is that in short order I find myself and my guest in a very pleasant, very old hotel in the heart of New Orleans. The room boasts a private entrance, a balcony. It also contains a bed and a bathroom that rivaled those found in palaces. I should know, I have spent time in many palaces in my time.

Once inside I lock the door and check the room before turning to my hunter and finally seeing a perceivable relaxation in her posture. Maybe she too has felt the crowds and the heat of the street to be a little stressful. 

I still do not know her name.

Perhaps I will learn it before the night was over, whatever it is might happen during this night. 

"The concierge promises that a delivery of toiletries and unmentionables would be made within half an hour. Are you hungry?" I ask politely.

My hunter turns inscrutable eyes towards me and in the darkness of the room my supernatural senses can see the blaze of hunger in them. It is not a hunger for food. I am old enough to know what hunger is, in any form.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asks as she strips off her shirt, carelessly tossing it onto a chair.

Curious, I move closer. The deadly hilts of her daggers peek out from an ingenious looking harness that encases her torso. She does not resist when my hands move to release the buckles hold it in place. Rather, she proceeds to strip me of my shirt and my skin flares up with the sensation of touch as her strong fingers explore it.

"I don't want to kill you." I say as I kiss the side of her neck, feeling her lifeblood pulse under my hungry lips.

I will not feed on her either. This woman must live as she is to haunt and to hunt me for another day, or an entire lifetime.

"That belies your reputation." My new friend tells me as she pulls my daggers from my boots and moves to work on the buttons of my tight leather pants.

"I think you will find that there is a lot about me that is, exaggerated." I murmur into her delicious smelling hair.

"I expect so." She breathes in reaction as she slides her hands into my waistband and moves them around to cup my ass.

I am lost. For this night, it will not be the moon who is my lover, it will be this woman, this hunter.

My heart wants to beat with joy. The sad thing is that my heart does not beat at all. But I remember, just like I remember the feel of the sun. I remember what it is like to have my heart pound with excitement. 

I remember.

A loud knock makes my hunter jump ever so slightly, but she recovers and instantly moves towards the door, opening it a fraction and grabbing the offered items without a word. The man who delivers them has been paid handsomely for his efforts. He does not need be told thank you. Ben Franklin gave his thanks several times already...

"This was very considerate of you." My hunter says in an offhand fashion.

"Well, every well-to-do hunter needs silk and French soap." I offer by way of explanation. I do not give a damn about soap or silk right now.

I care about the ripple of muscle that moves in the long back of my hunter.

I must feel that power and that strength.

I must.

"Come here." I say, softly.

Eyes that are ablaze with a dark fire turn towards me and my world is reduced to this moment now. Decades and centuries of life condense to this second in time.

I want her.

I always get what I want. Always.

"What is your name?" My hunter asks me somewhat unexpectedly.

I blink in reaction.

No one has asked me my name in a very long time.

"My mother called me Katherine. No one has called me by that name since she died." I offer after a moment.

No one knew this about me. Well, no one except my hunter, that is.

"I like that name. It suits you." She offers as she moves closer to me.

"I will allow only you to call me by it." I say, forgetting how to think as my seductress moves closer.

How is it possible that this mortal woman has reduced my supernatural self to this?

"My name is Constance." My siren says.

I like the name. I love it, actually.

"I love your name." I say softly, carefully making sure that I do not say, I love you.

Love is a weakness I cannot afford, yet it seems that I am paying, regardless.

"My mother was a vampire." Constance says quietly as she kisses my neck.

Now I am surprised. A hard thing to do to a creature like me.

"She was turned while I was still suckling." My hunter continues.

I pull her away from my body and look into her soulful eyes.

"No, she did not turn me. In fact she somehow managed to raise me. I killed the hunter who killed her. No one knows this, Katherine. So, now we both share a secret." Constance continues, sounding almost casual about it.

I blink again.

"My mother was killed by the one who turned me. I drank him dry. It is the only time I have feasted on my own kind." I whisper into her delicate ear as I hold her close to my body. "I think it affected my transition." I add.

"Probably. I think the breast milk of a vampire did something strange to me." Constance murmurs as she slips my leather pants down my legs.

"I am thrice as old as you think I am, Katherine." She continues and kisses the back of my knee, almost making my leg buckle under me.

If that was the case, Constance would live a very long time, provided she did not get herself killed.

How interesting...

**X X X X**

Having completed her mission of removing my pants, Constance rises to her feet and arches into me as I kiss her chest and the tops of her breasts. "I have hunted you for decades, Katherine." She breathes as I devour her passion.

"I know. I was wondering who you were when I was in Paris, but I never saw you." I whisper against baby soft skin and then I make short work of her silken bra. 

I do not care if she has been hunting me for her whole life. I only care that she is in my arms right now. Dark eyes open to look into mine. "You do not eat very often." She says after deftly managing to remove my bra. 

The hot, nimble furnaces that are her strong fingers elicit reactions in my body that I have forgotten that I am capable of even having.

"I am very old, Constance. I know the difference between need or greed, and the pain of true hunger." I explain, wanting to drop the subject actually. 

But if my new lover wants to have some details, I suppose I will oblige her. She does deserve to know, or so it seems. Also, she had said that her mother was a vampire, so my hunter will hardly be squeamish about this sort of thing.

"You are modest, Katherine. I know you like vodka mixed into your AB Negative. Gives a whole new twist on a Bloody Mary." Constance replies, her tone amused.

Busted.

My hunter knows that I am a fan of a rare vintage that The Red Cross likes to collect. The truth was that I have no need to kill, not really. But I like to kill, so when that desire overwhelms me, I prey on pimps and other dregs of society. Worthless parasites who I taunt into fighting back.

It is inherent to my kind that killing brings pleasure.

Bloodlust.

Somehow I know that Constance will understand this if I explain it to her.

But she does not seem to require explanations. My mind empties when I feel her soft lips kiss the hollow next to my hipbone.

It is time to move this to the bed, before I fell over.

Reaching down I pull Constance to her feet and then effortlessly heft her into my arms before I stride over to the bed with renewed purpose. I would have her scream my name before the night was over with.

Maybe then we would enjoy the dawn together. Perhaps it is time I become a child of the day once more. 

I wonder if this woman has the power do induce this change in me?

Right now none of that matters. It only matters that her legs were wrapped around me and that her sweat was slick on my skin. I am hungry and tonight I will eat what I enjoy the most. 

Constance undulates under me as I kiss down her body, stopping to lavish her breasts with my soft, murderous mouth. Without reservation she pulls my head tight to her, uncaring of the possible danger of my fangs. There was no actual danger of course, but myth and legend had made a creature like me a fearsome thing indeed.

It is occasionally a good thing to be so feared of course, but right now that will simply get in the way so I am glad that it is not a problem.

"Fuck me." Constance whispers.

It is like pouring gasoline onto an open flame.

Feeling more alive than I have in several lifetimes, I slide myself lower, glorying in the feeling as her wetness spreads up my body. A more perfect perfume or elixir has not been concocted by either man or vampire. 

Finally at my goal I do not hesitate to wrap my arms around her strong legs and bury my face where both of us desperately need it to be. She tastes fantastic. I realise almost at once that I have not truly lived before this moment.

Strong hands wrap themselves into my hair and she pulls me close, writhing under my mouth and burning my mind and soul with her essence. I will never be the same again after this, and I know on a cellular level that I will never have enough of her. 

Orgasm surprises us both and Constance arches up on the bed, almost yanking my hair from its roots as she cries out into the dimness of the room. It is a good thing that I really do not need to breathe as my head was trapped by strong thighs and the seal between my mouth and my lover is perfect.

It is beautiful.

I wonder if I am able to cry anymore? I certainly have the urge to cry. 

Lost in the moment I fail to realise that I have been freed from my happy prison of legs and thighs and sensation and that Constance is pulling me up her body gently, urgently.

"Come here." She whispers hoarsely.

I find myself resting on her breast and feel an unfamiliar moisture in my eyes. Swiping a hand across them I stare at the hint of silver on my skin in the darkness of the room..

Constance kisses the top of my head and holds me tighter. For a moment, for an eternity, I am at peace. Possibly for the first time since I have been reborn.

How is this possible? 

"Want to talk about it?" Constance asks after a moment.

"Not really. Not today anyway." I say and lift myself off her body, feeling lust and hunger pour into my veins and my body like a wildfire suddenly flaring out of control.

**X X X X**

My hunter does not let me get far though. Strong arms grab me and I find myself straddling the vibrant, living body that lays supine on the bed below me. Constance knows what she wants and her hands do not hesitate to touch me, explore me; and in doing so they possess me.

Briefly her fingers linger on the heavy cross that I am still wearing and I smile, almost laughing at the absurdity of some of the myths that surround vampires. Crosses are not an issue, neither is garlic, holy water, or whatever other nonsense.

My thoughts scatter as one of the hands that is exploring me trails down my body and makes its way to the tight space between me and the body of my lover. I grit my teeth in anticipation, controlling myself with an iron will. I do not want to break anything, after all. 

I am sure that Constance will be able to handle me, but it never hurts to be a little careful until more boundaries have been explored.

Despite my best laid plans though, when her hand actually makes its way between our bodies and then curves up to touch me, my self control slips from my fingers and I am lost. Constance moans beneath me and my body ratchets up in passion. If that is possible. It seems impossible at this moment, even though it is happening, right now.

I grind down onto her exploring hand and fall forward, bracing myself on the mattress beneath us. My eyes open to feast on the view under me. Constance is enraptured, her face a study of want, of intensity and of danger.

My executioner is my lover now. The Marquis de Sade would be so proud of this moment.

I feel wild and out of control as Constance rears up to capture my lips in a kiss that steals my breath and the last vestiges of my soul, and in these moments, I feel my orgasm wash over me. 

The intensity of the pleasure is almost painful, and I feel myself begin to black out. But, I feel safe. I am sheltered by strong arms and in heart that is beating so furiously that it sounds like a drum in my ears.

I know that this once will never be enough. I am addicted to this woman after just one taste and now that I have sipped from the forbidden cup, I will settle for nothing short of everything. I know this, just as surely as I know anything.

I have been hanging around with myself for a long time after all and I know myself very well indeed. 

I open my eyes and look into the soulful face that is studying me so very intently. Constance has mortal eyes, but there is something supernatural about this woman. No doubt her vampire mother had infused her with something significant. 

Perhaps I have finally found my true match?

Time would tell. But, for now it seemed that my brave hunter was falling asleep. I had no such needs but I will happily lay down with her and I will keep her safe from the night. I will die for her, this I know.

"Rest, Constance. I will be here when you wake up. I promise." I whisper and gather her close to me, revelling in her warmth.

In what I expect is a very rare show of trust, Constance does just that.

She sleeps...

**X X X X**

Dawn is just beginning to leave some hints on the skyline when I hear Constance start to stir in a manner which tells me that she will awaken soon. I am standing by the doorway of the balcony that adjoins our room. In my hand I have one of her daggers and I am as fascinated by it as I am by the view.

One myth that is in fact true about vampires is that if we are stabbed in the heart with wood, we die. Gone are the days when I had to worry about broken broom handles and sharpened stakes though. The weapon in my hand is truly a marvel of modern ingenuity coupled with an old idea.

Titanium. Razor sharp and with an armour piercing point. The blade is a skeleton model and I can see that the wooden bolsters attached to the blade are replaceable. The wood itself seems to be some incredibly dense tropical hardwood. An excellent choice, if I say so myself. 

This weapon will kill any human, or animal as well. Another useful feature no doubt. I wonder how many have died at the point of this blade. 

As I stand musing, warm arms encircle me from behind and I am shocked for the first time in centuries when I realise that I have been snuck up on.

"Heavy thoughts?" Constance asks as she nuzzles the back of my neck.

I am absurdly glad that there does not seem to be any indication that this morning will include awkwardness as the vampire and vampire hunter realise what they have done the night before.

"Just examining your hardware." I offer by way of explanation as I watch the edge of the sun sneak its way across the cityscape outside the balcony doors.

The golden rays touch my skin and I am briefly brought back to a happy moment in my childhood when my mother had embraced me one morning as I watched the sun rise. 

Constance is having the most perplexing effect on me.

"They are useful. I did not have the time to examine yours last night, though. May I?" Constance asks as she kisses the side of my neck and then releases me.

"Please." I say and move towards the phone. 

I have no doubt that my new lover is going to be hungry and even after so many years I do indeed still enjoy my morning coffee. I am also hungry, but that would wait. I could go days still without eating and I am not yet so comfortable that I will let Constance see me eat. Maybe one day. Time will tell.

After I place an order for a full breakfast and coffee for two, I walk over to Constance and see her intently examining one of my daggers.

"These are beautiful." She says as she runs her fingers along the inscriptions that are etched in the blade.

"Thank you." I respond and smile at the seeming absurdly tender moment of two killers complimenting each other's equipment.

"What do you use them for?" She asks, and for a moment I am thrown by the question before I realise she is asking me how many I have killed with them.

"Same thing that you use yours for, Constance." I respond.

"But not my own kind, though." I add. 

"What do you use for your own kind?" Constance asks as she slides the dagger away into my boot.

"Broken broom handles and my bare hands." I reply. 

I am not lying. If I had to fight my own kind I used my bare hands. Less chance of having my weapon taken away and thus used against me. I do not want to tell Constance that I have used the same hands that made love to her, to rip hearts out of the chests of my vampire brethren.

"You don't like your own kind." Constance states and rises to her feet.

"No. Or well, mostly no. I do have a few friends, but it is very much a matter of honour among thieves, though." I say after a moment.

A knock on the door interrupts whatever is going to be said next and after a moment I have secured breakfast in the room and smile at my new lover.

"Time to eat." I say simply and then pour some coffee.

**X X X X**

Evening falls quickly and I once more find myself wandering the dark streets of New Orleans. Today I am not being hunted though, I am hunting. I do not think The Red Cross has the ability to satisfy my hunger tonight. The city streets will provide for me and I am eager to see just what sort of tasty morsel I will dine on.

As I walk I am brought back to the morning and our eventual departure from the hotel. A leisurely breakfast accompanied by coffee and conversation, had been followed by a memorable shower before we had somewhat reluctantly made our way to the city streets once again. 

The fairytale was over, for the time being anyway. Constance was needed elsewhere and I needed to eat. Our love affair, or whatever it could be called, was not going to be especially conventional. To say the least.

"How will I find you?" Constance had asked as we had walked down the street together, looking for all intents and purposes like a happy couple in love.

"You will find me, Constance. You are my hunter. I'll make it easy, but only for you." I replied as I took her hand and we paused to glance at the wears displayed by a colourfully gregarious street vendor.

The man was eager to sell us something and in the end I had managed to buy something without Constance noticing. No mean feat, all things considered.

Later, when the time had come for us to part ways, I had offered her my small token. Her eyes had grown large as she unwrapped the scrap of tissue paper that hid my gift. It was dangerous to give women presents. I was suddenly reminded of this as I saw my lover's face light up with pleasure. 

I could easily spend my entire fortune and take all my time to buy and find things to give her that would reproduce that expression. Oh yes indeed.

"Let me help you." I had offered and then moved to stand behind her before I carefully arranged the chain and closed the clasp of the item in question.

"I love it. Thank you." Constance had said as she fingered the ornate crucifix that now hangs around her neck just above her beautiful breasts.

"I love you." I whispered and leaned in to kiss her briefly on the mouth.

"Don't take too long to find me again, hunter." I had added as I stepped back and away from her.

"I won't." Had been her reply, and with that we had parted ways.

However, now it was time to eat and my hunger and my senses have found a perfect candidate. He smelled of fear, corruption and sleaze. Fantastic.

I lick my fangs in heady anticipation and move in on my prey.

Briefly, I wonder if this was how Constance feels when she closes on her prey.

Maybe I will ask the next time we meet.

  
**FIN - © 2010**


End file.
